


in the cards

by hashire



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, F/M, Pre-Relationship, Sex is in the third chapter when they are 21, So don't worry, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-10-27 14:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17768246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hashire/pseuds/hashire
Summary: Levi gives Mikasa a card for Valentine's Day.





	1. part 1

**Author's Note:**

> They're about 12 in this, so sixth grade in 'Murican. Also on [tumblr](http://hashire.tumblr.com/post/182803367987/in-the-cards).

Mikasa cuts another heart out of the pink paper and holds it up to assess its quality. She deems it good and sets it aside. 

The _snip snip_ of the scissors is the only sound in the quiet room. The rest of the class is out for recess. Her parents told her she shouldn’t be outside for too long after being sick with that stomach bug for the past three days. She planned to go out anyway, because she hadn’t seen Sasha since last week and knew she would want to hear all of the gross details.

Her teacher had, unfortunately, been advised to keep an eye on her and held her back when she tried to dart outside after eating most of her lunch (her stomach was still upset so she couldn’t finish). She hadn’t even finished describing the worst of it!

“Sorry,” she’d said when Mikasa looked up at her with big eyes, “but your mom pulled me aside this morning.” She didn’t say more but didn’t have to. Mikasa had waved at her friends and walked, slumped, back to the classroom. 

It hasn’t been too bad so far: Valentine’s Day was the next day, and their teacher had decided that the class should be creative that year and make their own valentines. The other kids had been working on the days when she was gone. Mikasa had a lot of time to make up.

She notices the teacher glancing at her from the corner of her eye, so she looks up. “I’m going to step out for a moment,” she says, the _you’d better still be here when I get back_ going unsaid. Mikasa nods and returns to the hearts. 

She’s counting them as the teacher walks out; she sets them in piles to make sure there are enough for each card. She starts cutting out one more red heart when she hears footsteps again. _She did really mean a moment_ , Mikasa thinks, attention so focused on the heart that she doesn’t notice the footsteps approach her desk. A card is then thrust between her and her work.

She looks up, confused and annoyed at being interrupted. In front of her stands Levi, the boy who had started attending her school the past fall on a scholarship. They stay like this - staring at each other as the clock ticks behind her - until he clears his throat and says, “Take it.”

Mikasa blinks and looks down at the card. It’s well made: the patterned, multi-colored hearts are set so they look like the banners that hung around her house at her birthday party, the “Happy Valentine’s Day” written in flowing script. She looks up at him again. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.”

Levi shifts his weight from one foot to the other but doesn’t lower his arm. She notes the slight tint of red on his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose. He must be cold from being outside, she decides. “I know that. I wanted to give it to you early.”

She purses her lips (and notices that he glances at them for a moment). The situation is weird: she’s never really spoken to him at length before. They’ve been partnered together for a few projects before, but the experiences were unremarkable as they were only required to work with each other for part of the class period.

“OK,” she says finally, reaching out and taking the card. She moves to flip it open.

“Don't open it yet.” Mikasa raises an eyebrow at Levi when she meets his eyes again. He's redder now. “Wait until tomorrow.”

“But -” she starts, cut off when he darts from the room, almost running into the teacher as she returns. 

“What was that about?” she says, and Mikasa shrugs, both because she doesn't know and because she doesn't think the teacher really wants an answer. She moves the card underneath her papers when the teacher walks by her desk. The bell rings shortly after. Mikasa stashes everything away in her desk.

The rest of the day, she notices Levi glancing over at her from across the room. She catches his eye once and can't read his expression. She looks away before he does.

That night, she takes all of her stuff home. She hadn't been able to finish her cards, even with the time the teacher set aside in the afternoon. She spreads her things out on the table, shooes her little brother away, and sets to work.

Her mother comes by when it's time to clear the table off for dinner. “What's this?” she asks instead of telling Mikasa to put everything aside. She picks up the card that Mikasa brought home with her other supplies. She hadn't meant to. She ended up just pushing it to the corner of the table, not sure what else to do with it.

“Levi gave that to me. Don't open it!” Mikasa cries when her mother starts to open it. 

“Why not?” She seems confused, thumb slipped between the folds of the card. It's not open enough for either to see inside, and Mikasa doesn't try to peek, though she wants to. After a moment, her mother's eyes light up and she smiles. “And who's Levi?”

“He's a boy in my class. He told me not to open it until tomorrow.” The smile on her mother's face widens.

“Of course,” she says, setting it back down and covering her lower face with her hand. Before Mikasa can ask what's so funny, her father walks in. He sheds his coat and drapes it on a chair next to the wall. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hello. What’s going on here?” He undoes his scarf and starts to pull it off. Mikasa sees her mother make a motion for him to come over. She holds up one of her finished cards, about to show it off, when she hears her mother whisper. She can’t hear all of what’s said, but she catches “secret admirer.”

She turns around in her chair to find her parents smiling widely at each other. “I don’t have a secret admirer,” she says, scowling. How silly. She doesn’t even know Levi. She has her friend group and he has his. It’s not that she wouldn’t want to get to know him: it’s just never happened.

“Oh, of course not, sweetheart,” her father says, reaching to ruffle Mikasa’s hair. She ducks out of the way. “Your mother was just telling me that she’s my secret admirer.” They turn to each other and kiss. Mikasa makes a face and starts gathering up her supplies.

Her parents are whispering in the kitchen when she grabs the dishes to set the table. She decides to ignore them because they’re just weird sometimes.

She glances at the card a few times while finishes up her valentines, curiosity itching under her skin as the night goes on. But she doesn’t open it, because, after all, it isn’t Valentine’s Day.

*

Mikasa intends to look at the card in the morning: intends to, because she never actually gets the chance. She ends up having to remake a few of the cards because her annoying little brother ripped a few of them (“It was an accident!” he yelled as she snatched the ruined valentines from his hands). She also leaves it on her desk instead of putting it in her bag, realizing it only when her mother is dropping her off. She wants to go back home to get it, and her mother seems to want to agree to it, but, ultimately, she walks into the classroom without it.

Levi says nothing to her as she walks by, which is normal. Instead of continuing, Mikasa pauses a few steps away, her back to him. She’s not sure what she would say. “My mom thinks you’re my secret admirer” comes to mind. The idea of blurting that out with all of their classmates around them is unsavory. She just keeps walking, though she feels eyes following her as she goes. 

The valentine exchange happens after lunch. They’re given time to sort through their cards. Sasha tells Mikasa how much she loves her card, and Mikasa is about to tell her the same when she notices something off: a card from Levi. It’s simpler than the one he gave her yesterday. Without thinking, she grabs it, stands up, and walks over to his desk, leaving Sasha sputtering at her sudden departure. 

“You gave me this by accident,” she says without greeting him. Levi looks up from where he had been talking to his friend Farlan. 

He opens his mouth, then shuts it. Finally, he says, “I didn’t. It has your name on it.” She furrows her brow and looks at it: he’s right. 

“Then what about the card you gave me yesterday?” His eyes widen and he says nothing at first.

“I didn’t give you a card yesterday,” he says. Mikasa notices that he looks remarkably stiffer than when she first walked up. Farlan snickers and Levi gives him a little shove, which makes him laugh.

“You did,” she insists. “I have it -” She was going to tell him that she had it with her, but that wasn’t true. The card is at home. She has no proof. She presses her lips together.

“You have it…?” Levi prompts, ignoring Farlan, who’s holding his stomach. Levi crosses his arms, raising a single eyebrow. She notes that the fingers of his left hand are digging into the flesh of his right arm. There are many things she’d like to say in that moment, but she’s suddenly lost for words.

“Never mind,” she snaps, turning and stomping back to her desk. She realizes then that the entire class is staring at her. She huffs and glares, most of the students looking away before she catches their eye. 

“What was that about?” Sasha asks, brow creased and the corners of her mouth turned down. 

Their teacher calls for them to put the cards away. “I’ll tell you later.” 

Mikasa never gets around to doing so because she rushes out of the building when the final bell rings. She answers her mother with one-word responses and glares out the car window.

She’s annoyed and embarrassed and is ready to rip up the stupid card as soon as she gets home. She hears her mother laugh when she races through the house up to her room.

When she grabs the card, she flips it to hold it horizontally. It will tear nicely like that, she thinks, starting to bend it. Then she stops herself. Maybe Levi gave her the card to be a jerk, somehow knowing she’d make a fool of herself. But what did it say?

Mikasa turns the card, takes a deep breath, opens it, and reads what’s written inside. When she finishes, she blushes to the roots of her hair.


	2. part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't anticipate continuing this but I'm happy about doing it! I was originally going to write one long thing with a time skip and some fun but decided to split it up. Now I just need to write the third part.

Mikasa ends up stewing over the card the entire night. It’s not the way she thought she would have reacted to a...love confession? but what happened at school nags at her more. Everyone had been looking. _Everyone_. 

She takes the card with her the next day, intent on doing _something_ with it. She isn’t sure what. Tearing it up in front of him would be too mean. As upset about the whole situation as she is, she wouldn’t do something like that. She grips it so hard on the way to school that it starts to bend. 

“Don’t be nervous, sweetheart,” her mother says as they stop. “It’ll all work out.” Mikasa ducks out of the way of the hand that reaches over to pat her on the head. She then narrows her eyes.

“What do you mean?” Her mother withdraws her hand and smiles, not looking as though she’s concerned about how clearly guilty she is of invading Mikasa’s privacy. “I’m gonna give it back to him. That’s it.” With that, the smile drops a little.

“Oh, that’s too bad. But it is up to you about what you want to do.” Mikasa gets out of the car without saying goodbye. Her frustration transfers to her mother briefly. How could she do such a thing? How could she read the card that’s meant for her?

Then she spots Levi. The feelings well up again. She doesn’t make note of his slumped posture, his hands balled into fists in his pockets, and his head hanging down far enough for his chin to touch his chest. She walks at a brisk pace to stop a few feet in front of him. He must have noticed this because he, too, stops. He levels a glare at her before his face softens considerably. She can’t parse the meaning of this or the tone in his voice when he says, “What?” His eyes flit to the now more crumpled card in her hands. He tenses, meeting her eyes again. His brow knits and his shoulders go up a bit, but the light in his eyes: it changes, just a little.

Mikasa doesn’t understand. She’s never been in this position before, never had to read the emotions of someone she doesn’t really know. She barrels forward instead of thinking.

“Why did you give this to me?” she demands, thrusting the card toward him in clenched fists. His eyes widen. He takes a step back, purely from her tone. They’re in the shade of one of the tall trees by the building, so she can’t be sure, but she thinks his face drains of color. He takes another step back and casts a look around them. Mikasa follows his line of sight.

Everyone is watching again. _Everyone_. Her face flares hot from anger and - now - embarrassment. 

“Mikasa -” he starts, but her glare is enough to make his mouth snap shut.

“Never mind,” she snaps. “I don’t want to know. I don’t care.” She hesitates, wanting to shove the card into his hands and just forget all about this. Something that she can’t identify stops her. Instead, she simply storms away. The crowd of kids parts for her, some of them running in the face of her glare. 

“Mikasa!” She whips around, ready to dress someone down, when she sees it’s Sasha. So she relaxes. A little. “What was that all about?!” 

“Nothing,” she says with a scowl.

“Really?” Sasha looks over to Levi, still standing under the tree. He turns away when Mikasa looks over her shoulder. “Are you sure you didn’t hit him? It looks like you did.” She blinks, realizing she’s still staring at Levi’s now more hunched form. She turns back to Sasha.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she responds, even and firm. Sasha holds up her hands in an act of surrender. She apparently has to get one last thing out, because - 

“What is that?” she asks, pointing to the almost destroyed card. Mikasa glances down at it, then swings her backpack off her shoulders so fast and hard she almost hits Sasha with it. She stuffs the card inside, wincing at the sound of it tearing. She doesn’t understand why she cares, but, somehow, she does.

“Don’t worry about it.” The bell sounds above them before Sasha can say anything more. Mikasa pushes her way through the throng of kids standing around to get inside as soon as possible. 

It’s a normal day...mostly. She tries to ignore Levi and the whispers and snickers around her. She does. She can’t help but notice, however, that he’s sitting at his desk with his head pillowed on his arms, looking tired. Farlan glares at her, as does Isabel, who sits on Levi’s other side. She glares back. 

The day goes on. Much to her annoyance, she gets paired with Levi in two separate classes for little projects. Still, she works with him without incident and then ignores him. She can’t tell if he cares or not as he stifles yawns behind a hand. She doesn’t understand why it would - and why it does - annoy her. She pushes it out of her mind instead.

Things continue like that. Levi appears tired and sad most days. Mikasa bristles when he comes close to her and stays tense when he doesn’t acknowledge her. Why she wants him to, she doesn’t know. Her feelings are a mess, becoming more tangled each day, and she kind of wants to punch him for it. Or maybe something else. Honestly, she’s not sure what she wants from him.

“Why are you acting like this?” It isn’t Sasha who broaches the subject. As curious and concerned as she probably is, Mikasa is sure she knows what to expect.

“Like what?” she snaps without meaning to. Sasha might have taken a step back. Armin doesn’t even flinch. He does take a moment before he responds, likely choosing his words.

“You’ve been acting...weird since Valentine’s Day. Especially around Levi. Did something...else happen?” They’re sitting together on her living room couch. Her brother flits in and out of the room, making buzzing noises as he holds an airplane toy above his head. The desire to stick her foot out and trip him grows with each pass.

“Other than him embarrassing me in front of everyone? No.” She thinks of the card, stashed away in the top drawer of her bureau. She smoothed it out and taped it up, read and reread it. She almost wanted to throw it away but never did.

Armin raises an eyebrow at her. “He didn’t do that.”

Mikasa bristles. “He did. He - ”

“He didn’t do anything as far as I can tell. You said he gave you an extra card? Is that it?” She stays silent, thinking about the situation. She hadn’t really spent too much time on what caused all of it, just what happened. “You got upset because everyone was staring, right?” She nods. Her brother buzzes by again. “So…?”

“So it’s still his fault for giving me the stupid card.” Armin’s brow furrows. He frowns. She doesn’t like where this conversation is going.

“What did it say?” Her brother rounds the corner. She knocks down the pillow behind her and nudges it just enough for it to be right in his path. He trips just right: his knees hit the pillow and his elbows the soft carpet. He isn’t hurt. He starts to shriek anyway.

“Mom!” Even if the fallout from this would be worse than continuing the conversation with Armin, Mikasa made her choice.

Armin leaves with a look that tells her he knows why she did what she did and that this isn’t the end of it. She doesn’t care, mostly because of the argument that starts with her mother shortly after he’s gone.

It devolves quickly, she saying that he wasn’t hurt so it shouldn’t matter, her mom saying that that doesn’t matter, she shouldn’t do that to her brother. Ultimately, Mikasa gets sent to her room with one last comment from her mother: “I don’t know where you get it from, but you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met!”

She fumes as she slams the door like the angry preteen she is. Her eyes fall on her bureau drawer, her mind immediately placing the blame on the card again. On the words strung together in what she might call a love poem, if she were being generous. It didn’t even rhyme, though, so could it really even be called that? 

Mikasa considers destroying the card again. She pulls it out with the intention to. Then she flips it open, reading the words about her hair and her eyes and her smile and can’t. She just can’t. 

She thinks back to her conversation with Armin. Was it really Levi’s fault, all of this? Did anyone really care about it anymore, other than her? No one had stared at her and whispered past a day or two. Farlan and Isabel’s glares lingered but lessened. Only Levi stayed the same as he had after that first day.

Had she...hurt him that much? 

Her mother’s words ring in her head. She has been stubborn about a lot of things. Maybe she should apologize. But how? What should she say?

She thinks about it late into the night, like she had when she received the card. Nothing good comes to mind, and, by morning, she decides to just do what she did last time and go in without a plan (never mind the fact that things had gone horribly because of it…).

Mikasa apologizes to her brother and her mother to start, feeling better about a lot now that she’d taken care of that. The morning feels lighter as her mother drives her to school, and she's _ready_. 

But Levi isn't there. He doesn't get off the bus as usual. He's not at his desk. Farlan and Isabel are whispering to each other when their teacher clears her throat. 

"Levi won't be attending school with us anymore. His mother passed away last night from cancer and he'll be moving away over spring break."

She continues, but Mikasa doesn't hear any of it. She feels relief and guilt at once: relief because she wasn't the source of what he had been feeling, but then greater guilt because she felt that relief. Guilt that she wouldn't be able to apologize for hurting him when his mother was dying. 

Sasha reaches over to touch her elbow. When Mikasa looks at her, she finds her friend's brow creased with worry.

"What?" she whispers.

"You look…" She trails off and makes vague hand gestures. When Mikasa stares, she sighs and says, "sad."

"I'm not," she says quickly: maybe too quickly, because Sasha looks like she doesn't believe her. But then the teacher says their names and tells them they need to pay attention, and that’s the end of that. 

Mikasa dodges any and all questions about this incident and the news for the rest of the day, and soon her friends forget. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t because Levi doesn’t return before break, nor after, nor ever.

At the end of the school year, she pulls out the card, worn around the edges from her frequent readings, and wonders what would have happened had things gone differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, they'll meet again and have a very happy ending. ;)


	3. part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done! I hope you enjoy.

Many things happen in quick succession on what should be a dull Thursday evening: the first is a bang, followed by a sputter. Then the feeling of the cool air from the vent beside her bed dissipates. After that, her brother yells something that she can’t quite make out, and her mother yells something that she can, “We don’t use that language in this house, young man!” It becomes apparent shortly thereafter what transpired: the air conditioner broke on the hottest night of the year.

Mikasa stares at her LSAT prep book for a few minutes, considering her options. She could stay in her room, waiting for the heat and humidity to creep in and stifle her. She could go lie on the basement floor and see if that would be any better. She could drag every fan in the house into her room, lock her door, and wait for it to be broke down by her family. Or she could throw on something that didn’t have holes in it and leave the house for the first time in days.

She understandably chose the last of the options, quickly showering and throwing on a comfortable and casual dress.

“Mikasa! Where are you going?” her mother calls as she runs down the stairs, throwing a purse strap over her shoulder and sliding on some shoes.

“I need a break,” she calls back, holding up her phone to indicate that she’s reachable, and then is out the door.

The humidity hits her like a blanket being draped over her. The cicadas sing in the trees above her as she walks out to the sidewalk, pauses, and then goes left.

She’s home for summer, to study and rest and ostensibly to visit friends. The problem with that part of it is that, shortly after she returned, Eren and Armin announced their plans to travel (like they had wanted to for ages), and they were currently somewhere out of range, maybe swimming in the ocean and climbing up the side of a mountain. She couldn’t keep track of where they were, since every day it seemed to be somewhere new.

Sasha also told her that she would be on a “food vacation” with Nicolo for most of July. Mikasa almost wanted to ask if that was a weird euphemism but stopped short because she didn’t actually want to know. After that, all of her friends started dropping like flies: the ones who supposed to be there that summer, at least. 

She finds herself at the restaurant they used to spend their free time at in high school. She ended up there more out of habit than of hope that she would push open the door and see her friends, crowded around a table. She finds a bustling room with few familiar faces. It’s only then that she realizes how hot she had gotten on the walk. The sweat trails down her face. She swipes at it with great irritation.

“Would you like a table?” the host asks, holding up a menu. Mikasa shakes her head.

“No thanks. I’ll just sit at the bar.” It seems like a better prospect: even though it would be as close quarters as a table, she would at least be able to push back and out more easily than squeezing in and out and around the other chairs. So she settles onto a stool - one between two currently empty seats - and orders a gin and tonic. 

She presses the glass to her cheek, then her neck, shivering a bit at the shock of cold and the condensation that clings to her skin. The drink is so refreshing, even as it starts to warm her again. It’s a different warmth, one that tickles her belly instead of bringing out sweat from every pore. 

She doesn’t look up from her phone when someone sits on her left. She’s texting Sasha to whine a bit about the dead A.C. (and the fact that no one is there to join her for drinks, which is a hard thing to word without making her friend feel guilty for not being there). She doesn’t look up, doesn’t shift away. She finds the presence somehow familiar, though she can’t place how or where it’s from.

When another person sits on her other side, however, she bristles. It just feels...different. Unwelcome. She knows why the moment after she hits send on the text after reading it five times to make sure Sasha wouldn’t get upset.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he starts, and she turns to find him looking down her dress. She had forgone a bra because the thought of putting one on in the sticky heat made her uncomfortable even without the wet fabric sticking to her skin. Her slightly slouched posture shows him her chest all the way down to her pink panties. She claps a hand the top of the dress and sits up straighter, stopping his line of site. The bartender looks over, surprised, but goes back to drying glasses. The man stares at her for a moment, jaw slack, before composing himself and saying, “Can I buy you a drink?”

Mikasa considers his appearance - basic fuckboy attire with a “my daddy will sue you” haircut - and looks back at her half finished drink. She forces a smile that she doesn’t bother to make look genuine. “No thanks.” 

“Aww, come on. It’s a free drink.” She moves to cross her legs and turns her body away from him as much as she can in the little space she has.

“No thanks. I’m not interested.” The ice in her glass shifts, a line of condensation sliding down the side and onto the sodden coaster. She crosses her arms as well.

“You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.” And there it is. She’s been to many bars and turned down many men and women in the past. Most of the men have reacted like this (very few of the women have, she’s noticed). She’s gotten used to it and is ready to slam the rest of her drink and move along to somewhere else when the person on her left side speaks.

“She said she’s not interested, asshole.” Mikasa’s head lifts from where she had been staring at her glass. The voice, too, is familiar. Or, at least, the cadence of it. She looks to her left and finds -

“Levi?” She hasn’t seen him in so many years: not in person, that is. She wouldn’t admit to social media stalking, but she had looked him up from time to him. It never looked like he was very active, and she never tried to contact him to find out. She was a bit of a coward in that regard.

He’s too busy glaring at the man to acknowledge her at the moment. Then he blinks and looks at her. And looks and looks. Now that she can truly see him, oh, how attractive he’s gotten. He was cute as a kid, but now that the baby fat melted away from his face...she bites her lip and his eyes drop to the motion. She wants to say something, anything, but nothing comes to mind. It doesn’t matter, because the moment is broken.

“Go white knight somewhere else,” the man next to her snipes, either oblivious to what’s passing between them or hoping he can scare Levi off and still win Mikasa over. She breaks their gaze, narrows her eyes at the man, and reaches for her glass. The gin and tonic burns on the way down. She doesn’t flinch.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asks Levi. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second and his lips press together. She thinks, to her great dismay, that he’s going to say no, and she’ll have to slink out of the restaurant, both stinging with rejection - which she probably deserves after the way she rejected him, right? - and probably pursued by the asshole (whom she can easily drop with a kick, but she doesn’t really want to touch him at all). Then, his face smooths out.

“Sure.” He knocks back the rest of his drink, too, and they walk out. The blanket of heat hits them just before the blanket of awkwardness. Mikasa wonders, suddenly, if this is a good idea. She stops at the edge of the parking lot, and so does he. They look at each other again, but without the same tension as before. Now, it’s different, and definitely not comfortable.

She hears a noise - the sound of a group of people leaving the restaurant - and she doesn’t meant to look, but she does. Levi makes a small noise, and she turns her attention back to him. He opens his mouth. She cuts him off.

“So, what have you been up to lately?” If the atmosphere had been awkward before, it was nothing compared to now. She actually physically cringes at the stupid line. Maybe being a dick and calling Sasha on her “food” vacation wouldn’t be such a bad option after all. All she had to do was find a place with AC and...she notices Levi’s mouth twitching.

“Not much,” he finally says, tilting his head to the right to indicate she should start walking that way with him. “Working. I had to suddenly take over the family business when my uncle kicked the bucket.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Her movements feel stilted and off, like she’s woken up from a long nap and can’t figure out how her limbs work. 

“It is what it is. I could have sold it but I chose to take over.” She nods. They turn a corner. She continues walking and skids to a stop, almost tripping, when he doesn’t. “You can leave now.”

She half-turns, brow creased. “What do you mean?”

“The douchebag can’t see us anymore. I don’t think he’ll actually follow you.” He glances at her, eyes raking over her toned arms and legs in a way that makes her warm from the inside out, just like the gin. “Not that he’d stand a chance.” 

“I still don’t know what you mean. What does he have to do with this?” He clenches his jaw at her words, and damn if she still can’t read him.

“I get it. You needed an out.” She looks at him for a long time and thinks. It does make sense, she supposes, that he would believe that, but everything that happened between them happened nine years before when she was an asshole preteen who didn’t know what to do with her feelings.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, and she knows that he’s going to assume it’s for what’s happening now, not before. Before she can get anything else out, he proves her right.

“Yeah, it’s fine. See you around.” He starts to turn when she takes two large steps toward him and grabs his wrist.

“That’s not what I meant.” She takes a deep breath. “I was going to apologize sooner, but I didn’t have the chance to. I wish I had. I was a dumb kid. I’m sorry for, you know, all of that.” She may have written things she might have said over the years, some more eloquent than others, and none of the things she planned were anything like this. 

It would be ridiculous in any other situation to apologize at 21 for rejecting him at the age of 12. But it's all context here. And he stares at her for a long time. Her grip slips on his wrist, sweat collecting on her palm from the heat and nervousness. He takes a deep breath in and lets it out. The tension hangs thick between them, heat stifling still even as the sun sets. 

"I still have the card." The words spill out without her permission. She doesn't regret them when the expression on his face shifts to something softer than before: brow relaxing, jaw unclenching, eyes oddly shining. She lets her hand slip from his wrist, fingers sliding over his skin. He shivers despite the heat.

"Oh." She can't parse the meaning behind it - as usual - but the atmosphere changes. Her dress sticks to her back and her fringe to her face. Her stomach flutters and her shoulders lift from where she hadn’t noticed they had sagged. Even if she can’t read him, she somehow still understands. 

The mosquitoes buzz around them and air conditioner units rattle in the distance as they walk. He tells her more of the family business when she asks, though not much. When she asks if he’s happy to be doing it, something flashes across his face. He just shrugs and says he made his decision and can change it at any point.

“I need the money right now,” he says after a pause, and he doesn’t need to say more. He instead talks about how he’s in town to visit friends. They’d made plans to travel a bit before he’d told them he wanted to visit; he’d talked them out of cancelling everything. They’d be back the next week.

She talks about college and how she maybe overloaded her schedule to graduate when she did. She doesn’t regret it, either.

They walk until the sun is almost all the way set, the heat still relentless. She stops suddenly in front of a wall taller than her, looking at up at the top. She can hear the sound of lapping water over it.

“The owner of this pool is a huge racist asshole,” she says when Levi realizes she’s stopped and looks back at her. “I haven’t been swimming in years because of it. I refuse to pay to get in to a place owned by someone like that.”

“It’s closed now, isn’t it?” She glances over at Levi, standing a few feet in front of her. His lips twist into not quite a smile. She doesn’t follow his line of thought and tips her head to the side. He doesn’t give her any clarification, just continues to watch her.

“Oh,” she says, after a moment of clarity, “you’re suggesting we trespass.” He makes a face at her wording. “Sure.”

She leads him to a chain link fence around the back, talking shit about the owner the whole way. It’s a struggle not to get her dress caught, and, were it anyone else watching her that closely, she might have hit them. Instead, she breezes past Levi and walks over to the deep end of the pool.

There are a few lights shining above them; the pool is lit from below, casting eerie shadows on the sides of the pool. A slight wind stirs the water. It laps against the edges of the structure, not enough to splash over, but enough to make noise.

MIkasa kicks off her sandals, then reaches for the bottom of her dress. Levi chokes on nothing when she starts to pull it off. She gives him a curious look. “What did you think was going to happen?” He only shrugs. She shrugs back, tugging the dress over her head and tossing it away, hesitating for the briefest moment before doing the same with her panties. Then she dives in. 

It may have been some time since she had gone swimming, but she slices into the water with just a small splash to show for it. The water is cold, but blessed so against her clammy skin. She resurfaces, on her way to being fully refreshed and very aware of the eyes on her. She treads water, tipping her head back to let it saturate her short hair. She can only make out a few stars in the sky thanks to the light pollution.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” she calls, not moving from her current position. She swings her legs back and forth, back and forth, spreading her arms and bringing them together. 

“You were the one who wanted to swim,” he replies, closer than she expects. She finds him a few feet away, appraising her from above. She suppresses the shiver that tries to skitter up her spine. She huffs out a sigh instead.

“It isn’t fun to swim alone like this,” she says. “And, if we get caught, I’m not going down alone.” She kicks her legs so she’s horizontal in the water, then aims an arc of water toward him with another great kick. He doesn’t anticipate it, doesn’t have time to dodge. It hits all the way up his front. He stands there, eyes wide, disbelieving. “There. You’re already wet. Come in the water.”

“What the fuck.” He tugs at the collar of his shirt as she turns over and swims away with a smile. She does a lazy front crawl to the side of the pool. She catches the edge and takes a moment to push her hair back from her face. When she starts to turn, she’s startled by a splash, and when she finishes turning, she’s surprised by a face full of water. 

“What the fuck,” she echoes, coughing. She swipes a hand across her face, the other still holding the wall. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” She cracks open a still slightly stinging eye to see him now treading water, his clothes in a not-so-neat pile next to the edge of the pool. He flicks his head to get his fringe out of his face, hitting her with a bit more water in the process.

“Hey!” She glares and scoops up a handful of water to throw back at him. He manages to dodge, even while in the middle of the deep end with nothing to hang onto, and she spares a moment to marvel at his reflexes and the strength he possesses to pull such a stunt off. Then she slaps the water and hits him square in the face.

Mikasa does her best to keep him at bay because she wants to win this battle. Levi prove to be quite the opponent, throwing arcs of water above and then slapping the surface. Too quickly he has her pinned against the wall, one arm one either side of hers, facing each other.

“Not fair.” She’d cross her arms if it didn’t mean she’d have to kick wildly to keep from going under. She shifts a bit so she can lean on her elbows and move the hair that’s sticking to her face. Before she reaches it, there’s a hand there, brushing it to the side. She looks at him but he’s not quite meeting her eyes. He reaches out and touches the scar underneath her right eye, tracing the small line.

“How did this happen?” He pushes some of her hair behind her ear so the scar is more visible. His eyes flick to hers, and they are dark, warm, curious, and...

“Eren is an idiot,” she says, deadpan, glad her voice doesn’t shake. Levi snorts.

“I remember him being like that,” he says, moving closer. Their legs brush underwater. After being in the pool for so long, she’s also chilled, and he feels so warm. Instead of throwing her arms around him to pull him closer, she sets her hand on his shoulder. Her thumb strokes the skin of his neck. 

“He was an exceptional dumbass around you because he had a crush on you,” Mikasa says. Her hand slides around cup the back of his neck, fingertips appreciating the muscles she finds along the way. He doesn’t react to her words. Though she hadn’t tried to move back and away from him, she still finds herself pressed against the wall. Their chests are a hair’s breadth away.

“I knew,” he says, nose bumping against hers. She digs her fingers in and nudges her knee against his closest leg, and he has to stop to take a breath. This pause continues when she offers him a small smile. When he finally opens his mouth to continue, “But I - ”

“All right, thirty seconds to convince me why I shouldn’t call the police right now. Go.” The beam of the flashlight blinds them for a moment when they look up to see the security guard. He lets it drop to his side when they both hold up their hands and squint. “Come on. I don’t have all night.”

Levi blocks her with his body, and she can’t help but admire the lean muscles she finds there as he talks to the guard. She tries to tell herself that she shouldn’t be getting turned on when she could be on the cusp of getting arrested. She can’t take her eyes off his biceps.

“Mikasa,” he says, breaking her out of her hormone-filled haze. “Let’s go.” She looks up to find the security guard walking away, whistling. 

“What did you do?” she asks, realizing her error in doing so. “Never mind.” He understands and looks amused, and, oh, what a sight he is climbing out of the pool. She must be, too, because he gives her a long look as he offers a hand. When she makes a face, his expression disappears. “I forgot about the fact that there aren’t any towels around.” 

“There are towels in my hotel room.” A few thoughts run through her mind at that comment: the first being that he’s staying in a hotel instead of with friends (why might that be?); the next is that it’s a weird comment; and the final that he’s inviting her back to his room in the most awkward way possible. His face scrunches up in annoyance when she laughs.

“That’s the weirdest come on I’ve ever heard,” she tells him. Then, she leans down to kiss him. He tastes like chlorine and the whiskey she realizes he had been drinking at the bar so long ago. She withdraws, the soft noise of their lips parting lost under the soft sounds of the water. His eyes are hazy when they flutter open once more. “Lead the way.”

The dress sticks to her skin, soaking through because the damp heat of the night doesn’t allow for much drying off in between getting out of the putting and putting her clothes back on. She considers her panties for a long moment, and he watches this with great interest. Ultimately, she does tug them on. 

The fabric of the dress is thick enough not to turn translucent as it clings to her skin. Still, even with the heat hanging in the air, she finds herself shivering as the wind tickles her cheeks. Levi reaches for her hand, which she accepts, pulling him closer to line her side with his warmth and block some of the wind. He lets go to put an arm around her waist, guiding her along. 

The conversation goes in and out as he strokes and squeezes her waist through the dress. The shivers abate as they move closer to the hotel, then return for different reasons. He turns and kisses her neck, just once, nosing at her jaw. Sparks race down her spine, shocks skittering back up, and she’s never been more thankful that the streets in their city are rarely busy this time of night.

The receptionist gives them a sideways glance when they walk in, partially wrapped around each other, but it’s the farthest thing from Mikasa’s mind (and, honestly, she could not care less about the opinion of someone she would maybe encounter a handful of times in her life, if that). The elevator bell dings before she even realizes that they’re standing in front of it. As the door shuts, he pushes her against the wall, presses himself against her. The damp of their clothes chafes at her skin, but the feeling of him, now half-hard, against her thigh, banishes the thoughts of discomfort from her mind.

Instead of kissing her, Levi cups her face with one hand, the thumb of the other tracing the hollow of her throat. She presses her thighs together at the sensations, and he grunts, low in his throat, at the motion. Her hands settle on his arms, running over the muscles she was admiring earlier.

“Did you push the button?” she asks after a moment, more breathlessly than she anticipates. The elevator hadn’t moved. He swears and she laughs a little as she punches the floor button with more force than necessary.

Then they kiss as they elevator jerks up, the ensuing ride smooth. She didn’t pay attention to what floor he’s on, but it seems to come up all too fast. They have to withdraw from each other. She shivers again from the loss of his heat (and more). He takes her hand and all but drags her down the hall to one of the many doors. He takes his wallet out and fumbles with it before remembering that he doesn’t even need to take the key out (it doesn’t help that she grabs his butt during this struggle). One wave and the door clicks open.

The first thing that hits her is how nice the room is. The next is the cold air from the buzzing AC by the window. He notices her reaction and makes to cross the room to shut it off. She grabs his wrist to stop him.

“It’ll be fine,” Mikasa says, holding him in place while taking a step toward him, then another. “You’re here to warm me up, right?” She lets go of him to peel off the dress again, letting out a sigh of relief before yelping when warm lips press to her collarbone. Hot breath follows.

“What?” Levi says, looking up at her through his eyelashes. “I’m trying to warm you up.” She presses her lips together and chooses not to respond. She hooks her thumbs into the waistline of her panties, happy to be ready to get rid of them, when he stop her. “Let me.” She has no arguments when he drops to his knees, kissing her abs and drawing the panties down a bit too slowly.

He licks her once, long and thorough, like he just wants a taste, before standing once more. His eyes are dark again, and he gazes at her with what she might call reverence if she wasn’t almost afraid to do so. Instead of saying more, she reaches to pull at his shirt, which he pulls over his head without her help. She steps out of her sandals and leaves the panties on the floor, pressing against him once more. The feeling of his skin draws a moan from her throat, and he catches her lips, running his tongue along them as though he wants to taste that as well.

The rest of his clothes come off in a flurry. He leads her toward the bed without looking behind, knees inevitably hitting the edge and sending them falling onto it. Mikasa avoids bashing her head against his, laughing again and crawling up the bed. She lies back, wiggling against the lush comforter and soft pillows. He watches this before turning over and moving toward her.

“Do you have protection?” she asks before he’s all the way over her. He pauses, tips his head to the side, looks as though he’s really thinking, like this is a complicated question. Finally, he nods, and she swallows hard as her eyes follow him as he crawls off the bed, erection full and bobbing as he walks. She unabashedly stares again as he bends to rifle through his luggage. 

He climbs back on, tossing the condom next to her and settling on his knees by her feet. She arches a brow at him, moving a leg to nudge at him. He reaches to wrap his hand around her calf, stroking his thumb across it in the same way he did to her throat. It feels nice, but he’s so far away. She tries to nudge him again with her foot, to rub it on his thigh, but he lets go of her calf to grab it.

“Your foot is dirty,” Levi says. She gives him a flat stare, and he returns it.

“Are you trying to kill the mood?” Mikasa withdraws her leg, and he puts his hands on his thighs. He takes a breath as though he’s readying himself to say more, but then he seems to rethink it and shuts his mouth. It’s a wise choice, for sure: not that she would leave over this. Probably. The moment extends longer than it should, so she gives in, relaxes, and brings her hand up to her breast. She traces her fingertips over it, thumb brushing over the peaking nipple. Then, she says, voice breathless again, "It's not dirty up here, is it?"

He draws in a breath and, after opening and closing his mouth, shakes his head. She smiles and beckons him closer, and he obliges. He kisses her once before bringing his head down to kiss and suck at her breast. She trembles as the fingers of one of his hands follow the motions she made on her other breast. He pinches her nipple, and the corners of his lips quirk up when she jumps. He nuzzles her soft skin, sighing hot breath against it. 

He tortures her with languid strokes of his tongue and slow exploration with his fingers. She doesn’t ask him to go faster. Instead, she reaches between them to wrap her hand around his dick, stifling a noise at the weight of it against her palm. She thumbs at the head, swirling through the precum. He groans when she lets him go but stops everything he’s doing when she slides the thumb in her mouth and sucks.

Levi then slides a hand between her legs and finally, finally, strokes her there. The teasing and anticipation has her so wet that his fingers slip. He groans against her shoulder, where he had been biting marks into her skin. Mikasa reaches between them and strokes him, slow and unhurried: payback for all of his teasing. He thrusts into her grip but she continues at her pace.

He cups her face and kisses her again. The taste of chlorine has lessened but the smoothness of the whiskey remains. He slides two fingers into her and curls them as he does the same with his tongue. When he rubs her clit with his thumb, she jolts and comes. She clenches on his fingers and pushes her hips up into his touch. Still, he seems confused and concerned when she pushes his hand away after he doesn’t stop. He must see the dark of her eyes, the flush high on her cheeks and on her chest, and the quiver of her thighs, and then knows.

“Do you want to take a break?” he asks. She shakes her head before he even gets the question out.

“No. I want you inside of me.” He doesn’t need further reassurance as he reaches for the condom and rolls it on, waving away her offered hand - quaking as it was - with a smirk. She edges her legs open wider, though it isn’t really necessary, when he returns between them.

“Are you sure?” he asks, rubbing against her, eyes fluttering shut. She lifts a leg to hook it around him and draw him closer.

“Yes,” she sighs out, watching the expressions shift on his face as he rocks against her. She cups his cheek, and he moves all of his weight to one hand to cover her hand with his. His eyes are hazy as opens them. She bites her lip, his gaze dropping to the action, like he had so many hours ago.

He reaches down to line himself up and press into her, and she sighs again at the feeling: the stretch she had not experienced in so long, the fullness that follows. He pauses when he’s fully inside of her, staring at her with suddenly wide eyes, hair falling into his face. Like he doesn’t know why he is where he is, or how. Mikasa props herself up on her elbows.

“Is everything all right? Levi?” She adds his name when the question is met with no reaction. The deep inside confirms that he’s still alive...along with the twitch of him inside of her. She cocks her head to the side. “Levi?” Again.

He kisses her to stop whatever it is that she’s doing: a deep, thorough kiss that stokes of the fire inside of her belly again, the flames licking at her insides. She wraps her other leg around his waist, canting her hips because he still hasn’t moved. The motions unlock something inside of him, and he finally starts to thrust. 

He breaks the kiss to change the angle, holding onto her waist, and she drops back to the bed, fisting her hands into the sheets because it’s good, so good. She intends to touch herself, because she’s so close to coming again already. Levi knocks the hand away, and she’s about to snap at him when he does it instead.

She’s flexible, so he’s able to put her legs over his shoulders, slowing his thrusts. He meets her eyes, hair still falling over them, so she pushes it back, running his fingers through his damp hair. He tips his head toward her fingers, gasping and hips jerking when she scratches his scalp.

“Sensitive?” she teases, even as she pants. He kisses her instead of responding, the sound of their skin slapping filling the room.

He breaks away right before she comes again to suck at her neck. It takes just a hint of pressure from his teeth to push her over the edge once more. As she cries out, clenches down on him, flows with him, her hand that had been scratching his head wraps around the hair there and pulls. He chokes a moan against her throat and comes with her, pulsing and rocking as she does.

Levi shakes with effort as he tries not to collapse on her. Mikasa removes her legs from his shoulders before he falls, landing on his elbows on either sides of her shoulders. His forehead presses against one of the pillows next to her head. He pants in her ear. She puts her thighs around his hips to give them a quick squeeze. 

She moans at the loss of his heat as he pulls out and away, tying off the condom and throwing it in the bin next to the bed. She makes a whining noise when he doesn’t immediately return. She can’t read his expression - damn it, again - when he looks back, so she fakes a shiver and holds her arms out to him. 

“Still cold?” he asks as he plucks at the covers to pull them down and then up around the two of them. 

“Not now.” Her phone buzzes somewhere in the folds of her dress, ruining whatever moment they could have had. She doesn’t even need to look to know what it is. “I guess I need to tell my mom that I’m not dead in a ditch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also hope the sm*t is good. I haven't written rivamika smut since October and I feel like I'm rusty somehow. Please be gentle. Love you. Bye.

**Author's Note:**

> :) Would love to hear what you think.


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